How to Train Your Hetamon
by Illusion fox
Summary: **Strongly based off of Pokemon** To be a Hetamon Champion, you must have an elite force of Hetamon. They have to be strong, obedient, smart, and athletic. No fooling around, and no messing up. That will be quite a challenge for Corey Adams as this new trainer fights off Mary-Sues and total wierdos with the weakest Hetamon of all... Italy. *Love it? Hate it? READ IT!*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, guys (or girls to be more specific) and welcome to the first chapter of "How to Train Your Hetamon!" For those of you who aren't familiar with pokémon, that's a-okay! I'll try to explain everything through this first chapter! Thank you!**

**Warnings: OC, mild cursing, mild yaoi later on, slight OC X OC later on, some crack pairings, some popular pairings (GerIta, FrUK, USUK, etc.) , fourth wall breaking, and whatever may come next.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Pokémon or even the cover picture.**

How to Train Your Hetamon

By Illusion Fox

Chapter 1

.:Intro:.

In this world, there are a variety of species that we call Hetamon. Hetamon are a type of species that have different strengths. We often categorize them into seventeen groups according to their power: Normal, Fire, Water, Grass, Electric, Ice, Fighting, Poison, Ground, Flying, Psychic, Bug, Rock, Ghost, Dragon, Dark, and Steel. Hetamon come in all different shapes and sizes, with unique looks, abilities, and specialties. Humans and Hetamon work together to create a better, happier place for everyone. Many jobs these days often revolve around Hetamon. Some children often pursue a journey in order to understand the world before them, so they know what they truly want to do in life. They create goals like becoming a Hetamon Champion so they have something to strive for.

Many children these days want to become a Hetamon Champion. They are given one Hetamon as a starter, and then continue their journey by training their Hetamon and catching more by using Hetaballs. (Hahaha, balls.) Each trainer can have up to six Hetamon travelling with them, and you can have no more than that. In order to become a Hetamon Champion, you must win eight badges from eight gyms that are scattered throughout the region, Suetopia. To win a badge, you must go through a Hetamon battle against the gym leader, where trainers send out their Hetamon to fight.

Despite our efforts to work together, there are some people who want to use Hetamon as tools. Often, they rise up together in organization with a retarded name and queer costumes. Because of the numerous amounts of these organizations, the required age to start a journey must be at least fifteen. Most people don't go on journeys anymore because of these organizations; people say that they will scar your mind in more ways than one. I still haven't quite figured out what they mean by that, but I'm not sure whether or not I want to know myself.

What I do know is this: One Organization, Team Sparkle (I mean really, who's the idiot who chooses these names?!), plan to steal the ultimate Hetamon and use its strength to rule the world. They plan to take the legendary Hetamon, Pangaea.

.:End Intro:.  


"COREY! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

I choked on the cereal I was eating, spitting it out all over my wooden table. Little bits of Frosted Flakes and milk were splattered all over my shirt, and I cursed as knuckles rapped against the wooden door. Just to annoy the person outside, I slowly walked towards the kitchen to place my bowl of cereal into the sink. I dragged my feet over the cheap, grey carpet, gently setting the bowl into the steel sink.

"COREY!"

I sighed and walked to my room. Changing out of my ruined shirt, I changed into a turquoise t-shirt and a dark green hoodie, which fitted with my regular blue jeans. Then again, everything looks well with jeans. I combed through my bristled, short, brown hair. It was styled in a boyish pixie cut, and it was too short to decorate it with ribbons or anything else. I slipped on some socks and put on my sneakers. I took another glance at my vanity mirror; a flat-chested, straight-figured, short-haired girl with blue eyes and freckles dotted on her cheeks and nose stared back with a thin frown. I scowled back at her before sticking my tongue out.

My small bedroom was as messy as ever; dirty clothes lazily were scattered across the floor, and my desk was cluttered with items and souvenirs. My light blue bed wasn't made like it usually was, and books were everywhere. My beige messenger bag stood out from the messy background because of its new and high-quality state, where as everything was either broken or worn out. I grabbed the bag before filing through it. Trainer Card? Check. Hetaballs? Check. Extra Clothes? Check. Medicine? Check. I continued down the long list of my necessities, and then finally left the room with a small click of the door closing.

Quietly, I gently opened the door to my parents' bedroom. The tidy room was pure white, except for the brown tufts of hair peeping out of the white covers. The two were sleeping peacefully, just as I expected. Before going on my journey, I wanted them to at least say goodbye. Maybe just give me a warm hug before I left. . . Or at least a pat on the back. But, I knew that such ideas wouldn't happen. They needed to work to continue living here. They needed money. The only jobs they had were during the night, so they had to sleep during the day. I couldn't wake them just so I can say goodbye. A second wasted could have been a second of pure, blissful slumber. Quietly, a tiptoed in their room, rummaging in my bag for the note that I wrote last night for them. I knew that it would come to this, and my goodbyes would be written clearly in black and white. I placed the note on the nightstand next to their bed before silently walking out.

By now, I was afraid the door was going to break. The person behind it was sure making a big fuss—

"COREY ADAMS, OPEN THIS DOOR BEFORE I BREAK IT!"

I sprinted towards the door, opening it up while panting. A short girl with unusually long golden hair that fell to her waist stood there, her big, doe-like brown eyes sparkling. She showed no signs that she was literally breaking the door down, or that she was screaming her head off. Her pink, frilly short dress was filled with sparkles, and her pale skin looked flawless (like always). As usual, she looked like a freaking ten-year-old instead of a fifteen-year-old. Scarily enough, she had a sweet, childish smile on her face.

"Silly Corey-chan," she giggled, acting as if nothing happened. "You're going to be late to get your Hetamon~! I already got mine, and he's so kawaii! You're gonna be stuck with something weird! Teehee~!" She grabbed my wrist and dragged me off to the Hetamon Research Lab, guiding me as if I was the child here.

"See? Pretty much _everyone_ has their Hetamon!" gushed the girl, pointing at a bunch of people. As for me, I couldn't understand any of it. There were only people in front of the laboratory, not monsters or anything out of the ordinary. However, half of these people looked very similar to one another. . . I've never seen a Hetamon before, and I only read what I could from books. I was expecting some sort of mutant animal that could kill you just by sneezing.

"Um, thanks Angel," I said, addressing the girl. The blonde only nodded before waltzing away in the crowd of people. Strange girl.

Pushing myself through everyone, I finally got to the front entrance of the building. I pulled open the door, the strong scent of Febreeze in the air. There were many other researches in the house, but they didn't pay attention to me. Apparently, the DNA of a Hetamon is more interesting than me, but then again, I would choose the DNA, too. I spied around for a while, until I met the gaze of the head honcho here. He was an old man with a wrinkled face, hunched over by two red-and-white balls (WILL YOU STOP LAUGHING?!). A boy my age was in front of him, holding a bottle of Febreeze in his hand. He sprayed it before taking in a long, slow whiff of it, and then he reached his hand for one of the Hetaballs.

I walked up towards them, expecting the old man to whisk me in, telling me a five-hour speech about Hetamon.

He didn't.

However, the orange-haired boy was staring at me with his jaw agape. His green eyes bugged out of his eye sockets, and I was slightly afraid that they would just blow up like in one of those freaky cartoons that Angel showed me. His pale face flushed a dark red before rushing off, bumping me in the way as he clenched the Hetaball in his hand.

Giving a glare at the boy as he rushed out, I walked up to the old man, his grey eyes staring at the lone Hetaball with a hazed expression.

"Um, I'm Corey Adams. Can I have a Hetamon?" I asked, but the guy wouldn't budge. I poked him. He didn't even flinch. I continued poking him until I got to the point where I was practically jabbing him with my index finger. Finally, the old man looked up and pointed to the Hetaball.

"I used have two balls," he said stoically. "Then that gay boy took one of them."

That gay boy . . . ? The orange-haired kid? Makes sense enough. After all, he probably thought I was a dude.

"You're going to take my ball, too, huh? Then I won't have any more balls!"

I stared at the so-called professor. Was he . . . ? W-was he saying what I think he was saying . . . ?

"You _are _going to take my ball, aren't you?" he asked, stepping closer to me. I stepped back. "Then I'll have no balls! No more balls for Professor Pine! No more balls!"

He was just about to touch me when a different researcher stepped in. He looked at least twenty, but still very good-looking in that lanky, nerdy way. He pushed the grey-eyed professor away, and then walked back to me with a kind face. He, like the boy I had just saw, had bright green eyes and orange hair.

"I'm so sorry," he explained. "My grandfather is sort of losing his marbles. . ."

"_And apparently he's losing his balls, too,"_ I thought.

"Anyway, I'm the main professor here, or, in other words, 'that guy who gives a Hetamon for free,'" he said happily, extending his hand towards me. I shook it in return. "My name is Professor Pine, like my grandfather. What's your name?"

"Corey Adams," I answered, wiping my already sweaty hand on my jeans.

"A great name for a boy like you," he said cheerfully, and I frowned.

"I'm a girl," I corrected him bluntly, and he deadpanned.

. . . Insert awkward silence here . . .

"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in anyway, Corey, it's just that you know, and, and, and," the professor babbled, and I sweatdropped.

"I'm used to it," I sighed. "Can I just have the freaking Hetamon?"

"Why, yes, of course!" he said, and then picked up the last ball. "Here's your Hetaball, miss. You're lucky to get the last one."

I grabbed the Hetaball from his hand, feeling its smooth surface. How was I supposed to send it out? Hell, how does a flipping monster get into a small thing like this? I shook it, holding it against my ear to listen to any rattling. There was nothing. The ball was empty. Was he trying to pull a fast one on me?

"Don't worry, all you have to do is throw it in the air and a Hetamon pops out. Isn't it magical?" he asked, talking to me like I was a child. That baby crap may have worked on Angel, but not on me. Whoever made this whole thing up must have been really bad at explaining things, cuz a Hetamon "magically" popping out of some ball is totally cliché. They should be feel so guilty.

"Sure," I answered him, and he smiled broadly. "I also have a request for you," he said, and took out a small machine that reminded me of a cell phone. "This is called a hetadex. It's like Wikipedia, but for Hetamon! The only problem is that it doesn't have any info on it. So, you know what you have to do? Can you go across Suetopia, finding each and every Hetamon! Your hetadex automatically saves the data whenever you see one! So, can you help me out?"

You know, I sort of find it weird that he's asking me this. After all, I'm the last kid who asked for a Hetamon. Don't you think he'd ask, like, the first person who stepped in here? This guy must be a load of lazy crap if he can't go on his own damn journey. He should be ashamed that he's burdening a girl who's cursed to look like a boy—

"Okay," I said like the total idiot I was, and Professor Pine happily gave me the light blue hetadex. He told me how incredibly thankful he was, and told me the "dangers" of Hetamon. "Whatever you do," he said, staring at me straight in the eye, "do not fall in love with a Hetamon." I nodded, not understanding the meaning behind his sentence. Hetamon were monsters with special abilities, right?

. . . Right?

"Whenever a Hetamon is near, the hetadex will blink and make a noise," Professor Pine said, pointing at a small light bulb in the right-hand corner of the machine. "That way, you won't mistake the wild Hetamon for a person." He handed me the hetadex, and I automatically dropped it in my bag.

Mistake a Hetamon for . . . a person?

"Anyway, that's all I can tell you," Professor Pine said. "Have fun on your adventure!" He dragged me out of the laboratory with a cheery smile while I still held the Hetaball in my hand. The orange-haired fellow slammed the door shut before locking the door.

Blinking, I began to come back to my normal senses. As I would have guessed, all of the fifteen-year-olds were gone, already out on their journey. My feet felt like lead despite the fact that I was free now, able to go wherever I please. Did I really want to leave with my Hetamon? In fact, was I ready to leave? There's still so much I don't know in this big, scary world. It was too big for me to just roam by myself. . . I stared at the Hetaball with worried eyes. I didn't even know what kind of Hetamon it was. Hopefully it was a Germany. I read that they're really strong and obedient, but I'd be happy with even a Spain.

"_Maybe this won't be so bad,"_ I thought naively as I made way to Route 1, where my adventure will begin. I clenched the ball in my hand before praying to Pangaea above to give me a strong pokémon so I can become a champion. I threw the Hetaball high in the air, watching it as it opened up with a flashing red light.

The light manifested together, creating an auburn-haired man with closed eyes and goofy smile. A curl stood on the left side of his head, and he wore a blue military uniform with a black shirt underneath that and black boots. He was a lot taller than me, but he held a sort of childish vibe.

"Ve~!" he chirped, and I deadpanned.

This . . .

This is my worst nightmare. . .

I'm going to. . . I'm going to go on. . . I'm going to go on a journey. . .

With. . .

With . . .

An . . .

. . .

ITALY?!

**A/N: Don't worry, there shall be more! We'll see why Corey doesn't like Italy, and what he's going to do about it.**

**Corey: IMMA GIRL, DAMMIT!**

**IF: S-sorry, maybe you should grow your hair a bit longer. . .**

**Corey: No, it gets in the way!**

**IF: -.- I was only trying to help. Anyway, review, favorite, follow, or do whatever! Tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey! Wow, four reviews? Thanks! But a lot more people FAVORITED instead of REVIEWED. *points at all you silent readers* I'm watching you. Just a little sentence won't hurt for a review, you know!**

**Warnings: OC, mild cursing, mild yaoi later on, slight OC X OC later on, some crack pairings, some popular pairings (GerIta, FrUK, USUK, etc.) , fourth wall breaking, and whatever may come next.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Pokémon or even the cover picture.**

_The light manifested together, creating an auburn-haired man with closed eyes and goofy smile. A curl stood on the left side of his head, and he wore a blue military uniform with a black shirt underneath that and black boots. He was a lot taller than me, but he held a sort of childish vibe._

_This. . . This is my worst nightmare. . ._

_I'm going to travel with . . . an ITALY?!_

I blinked, staring at the Hetamon. He was smiling while he looked down at me with his eyes shut tightly. Even though I didn't know that Hetamon looked so . . . _human,_ it didn't take the hetadex to tell me what he was. In the books I've read, they specifically stated that an Italy was identified with a left-handed curl erupting from its head. Speaking of the hetadex, it was beeping its head off, a blue light flashing.

"HEY! HEY, LISTEN! HELLO? HEY! LISTEN! HEY! HEY! LISTEN! HELLO? HEY! HEY, LISTEN!" a high-pitched voice screeched from the machine. I looked through my bag with a slightly annoyed expression until I found the small hetadex. I flipped it open so there was a big screen. Pointing it towards the Italy, the hetadex began analyzing the Hetamon.

"Italy, the White Flag Hetamon," it said. "This Hetamon is known for its lame-ass attacks. Often, it will not battle and will immediately flee whether or not it's against a trainer or a wild Hetamon. It has a deep fondness for pasta and pizza, and will most likely waste all your money on it. Overall, this Hetamon is virtually useless."

Of course. I'm the one stuck with the crappy Hetamon. Dropping the hetadex back in my bag, I watched him with an unimpressed gaze as the brunette chased a butterfly, laughing happily with many "Ve~"s along the way. He skipped around for a while before noticing that I was there. He walked up and tilted his head, his mouth shaped in a small "o."

"Ve, mister, are you stalking me like Big Brother France?" he asked with a jolly tone in his voice.

France. Another familiar Hetamon popped into my head. According to the books, these Hetamon were known for their perverted ideas and ways. I remember myself specifically slamming the book shut after I had read what a France does to their victims. In fact, I clearly remember the words I had said. _"No matter under any circumstances will I EVER catch a France."_ I don't know whether an Italy was always so insulting, or if they were just stupid. Most likely stupid.

"No, I'm your trainer. Your _female_ trainer," I said. You know, maybe if I bought a decent-sized bra and filled them with tissues like every other flat-chested girl out there, then maybe I wouldn't be called a boy.

. . . Scratch that, they'd say I'm a strange combination between the two genders.

To all you girls who are cursed like me, I salute you, man. I have no idea how you all manage. I'm stuck with a dumb brunette (gosh, it would be such a better joke if an Italy was blonde . . . No offense to all you blondies out there.)

"You know, I should give you a nickname," I said softly, not really talking to him. He tilted his head again and looked at me. "After all, I bet a lot of trainers have an Italy." Lie. Total lie. Someone, send out a Switzerland so they can shoot me for my horrible deed.

"Really? I'm popular, ve?" he asked, excitement and pure happiness dripping like sweet honey from each word. It made my heart break a little to tell him such a small, white lie so he'd act this happy, but I had to give him a reason to change his name. Originally, I wanted to nickname my Hetamon something cool or badass like "Blaze" or "Snowcross." But seeing how human they look, it would be just plain _weird_ to nickname them something like that.

Like, it would be weirder than Spongebob wearing ROUND pants. (And trust me, Angel showed me that episode, and it was strange. Very strange.)

"So, how about Xander?" I asked, trying to think of a cool name for the Italy. He shook his head.

"C'mon, what about Rex? Like T-Rex?" I inquired, and he shook his head.

"Orion?"

"Pasta?" I asked, sure that I hit the jackpot. The brunette stood still for a minute, but he still shook his head.

Becoming frustrated, I placed my hands on my hips and looked up (the sad part was that he's taller than me. It really sucks hetaballs) at him with icy eyes. I mean, what pleases him? What sort of nickname would he like? It's not like he's a mute Hetamon, thank Pangaea. The least he could do is speak up a bit and tell me what he wants.

As if reading my mind, the Hetamon answered, "I like Feliciano. Feliciano Vargas, ve~! But you can call me Feli, too." I nodded happily, although I was silently depressed that I couldn't make it sound fierce like I wanted. Then again, I think nicknaming an Italy something badass would be like naming a Hello-Kitty "Dark Blood Destruction of Zeyaxan." Yeah, it just doesn't quite fit for some unknown reason.

"Well, Feli it is," I said, glancing towards the tall grass behind him. You know, the grass only came up to my waist, but I don't see why everyone says a Hetamon will pop out at you. After all, I could easily see Feli through the tall grass, so why not another Hetamon? Unless wild Hetamon go on all fours and crawl through the grass— BAD COREY! DIRTY THOUGHTS, FLEE! FLEE, I SAY!

Curiously, I stepped towards the grass, my foot just about to take a step in when—

"HALT!" a sudden voice screamed, and I lost my balance, falling to the ground. I looked up to see a brown-haired chick with her hair tied up in a high ponytail, her bangs and some loose pieces of hair framing her heart-shaped face. Her skin was light, and her eyes were a sparkling violet. (WTF? Violet eyes?!) She wore a tight black t-shirt with a red, short-sleeved jacket. The brunette also had VERY short jeans. I mean, I'm thinking two sizes smaller than she really is, and— Oh my Pangaea, my eyes! They burn! It hurts even to describe!

"Hey protagonist of this story," cried the girl, her chest bouncing. "I'm Luna Celestia de Moone! You can just leave because I am obviously the main character here. After all, I overslept just like Ash Ketchum and got the last badass Hetamon, and with these good looks, all of the Hetalia characters will fall head over heels for me even though they're technically not human in this story! HAHAHAHA! WATCH ME AS I LAUGH LIKE THE TOTAL EPIC GIRL I AM! HAHAHAHAHA!"

. . . What the schnitzel? How in the world did this airhead appear? Didn't _I_ get the last Hetamon? And what the hell is a Hetalia and an Ash Ketchum? I found myself still sitting on my rump as I stared at the girl with wide eyes. Feliciano strolled up towards the girl with that goofy grin of his face. I sighed and smacked my head with the palm of my hand.

"Ciao, lady," he chirped, and I realized that he was flirting with her. "You're so pretty, it's like you came from heaven! Maybe an angel like you could feed me some pasta, ve~? I bet you're kind and nice, perfect for an Italian man like me~!"

I deadpanned as I watched the stranger giggle. Two things were going through my head. . .

Airhead + Airhead = Disaster

Italy was MY Hetamon, dammit! She's not taking him away from me!

My blood began to boil as I watched the girl flirt with him. I wasn't jealous, just territorial. If she had a Hetamon that was so badass like she claimed, why doesn't she just flirt with that? Her laughter, unlike before, sounded like wind chimes. Feli had his arm around her, and he continued rambling like the useless Hetamon he was. My eye twitched; this was getting annoying.

"Oh? Aren't you just adorable! You're jealous that I'm not giving you attention!" the girl looked at me with her violet eyes, coming up close to me. She winked, smirking in the process. I could've barfed right then and there, but because of my lack of breakfast (thanks to Angel) I couldn't find anything to throw up on her. What is this? Some crack story where every chick has to flirt with me because of the way I look? I mean, this chick doesn't even know me!

I found the strength to push her away, and I stood up, dusting myself off. I stared at her with glare that sent friggin' daggers. If looks could kill, then half the population of girls would probably be dead, including this Luna-whatever-sparkle-sunshine. I then grabbed my disobedient Hetamon by the wrist and dragged him away from the girl while yelling, "I'M A GIRL!"

However, running away from your problems will never work. Trust me, because somehow the chick managed to get in front of me, her hand held out like a police officer. Her pink lips were pressed together into a thin line, and she placed her free hand on her wide hips.

"If you reject me as your friend, then you are my rival! Prepare to battle—" She was interrupted when a little boy attacked her.

"Catch me! I'm a Hetamon, too! If you catch me, then the Jerky King of Jerks will so how strong I am! CATCH ME!" he whined, clinging onto the girl's leg. "I may be small, but I have a BIG heart!"

He had sandy blonde hair with bright blue eyes. His eyebrows were very thick, and he wore a sailor's suit that made him look even more childish. The boy continued to latch onto Luna's leg, crying.

"Come on, catch me! I'm a Hetamon, too! Really, I am!"

"HEY! HEY LISTEN! HEY! HELLO? LINK! HEY! HEY LISTEN!" my hetadex screeched from my bag, and I quickly grabbed it, making it analyze the strange boy.

"Sealand, the Sailor Hetamon," it said. "At first, researchers believed that Sealand is NOT a Hetamon. After many tests, they reluctantly came to the agreement that it IS a Hetamon. This small Hetamon often makes references towards "Jerk England," who is identified at England, another Hetamon. Sealand is very weak, and are mainly used to annoy the living hell out of you when you're travelling."

Luna shook her leg, trying to get the human-like boy off. I walked away, with Feliciano still in my grasp. "Aren't you going to help me?!" cried Luna, who was peeling the Sealand off of her. "Nah," I called back. "I'm your rival, remember?"

You know, some people may think it's heartless of me to leave her there, but I think its karma. After all, she WAS the one who was going to do Pangaea-knows-what with Feliciano and me, so the universe is just giving her payback. It would ruin the moment to save her, you know.

Soon, we were out of the tall grass and on a dirt road. It was nice, having the warming sun and the cool, crisp, autumn air. I decided to return Feli back to his Hetaball (trust me; it took a LONG time to figure that out. After screaming "GET BACK INTO THE FREAKING BALL, FELICIANO!" the Hetamon finally turned back into the red light and fell into the ball) to enjoy the outside peacefully. The trees that surrounded me were slowly turning to that lovely orange-reddish tint, and there were hardly any bugs. Every time I had to go through the tall grass, I looked both ways and checked my hetadex in case another Sealand would pop up. Just thinking about it makes me shudder. . . Despite that, I was enjoying my time on Route 1. Breathing in that fresh air, I could smell the soft yet distinct smell of . . . Febreeze?

Oh Pangaea, not this. I looked around until my eyes caught sight of the same orange-haired guy with the bottle of Febreeze, frantically spraying it wherever he went. Something told me that I shouldn't approach him. With him taking in all of that Febreeze, he's probably high right now. I hid behind a nearby tree, waiting for him to move on. People that were high/drunk had always scared me, and this fear could have been so bad that it may be called a phobia. I've never really met a drunk guy, but, from what I've read, they're just as bad as a France. Horrifying.

I continued watching him, my nails digging into the bark of the tree. I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to take the bottle of Febreeze and then continue on his journey. From my angle, I could only see his waist and above, so I couldn't tell whether or not a Sealand was latched onto his leg. If I'm stealthy enough, then maybe I can pass the boy by hiding by trees. It'd be like being a ninja! I got onto the ground, crawling my way through the grass. I was doing pretty well, actually, until the universe started feeling bitchy and decided to let Feliciano out of his Hetaball.

"I'm hungry! Can we have pasta, ve~?" he asked, standing up straight and poking me with his index finger. I cursed under my breath and turned my head so I can see him.

"Feli, I need you to get down on all fours and BE QUIET!" I hissed, and Feliciano actually listened for once.

"Are you gonna do what Big Brother France does?" he asked innocently as he went down on all fours, and my cheeks flushed.

"I-I would never do something that sick, Feli," I said. "And I'm a _girl. _My name is _Corey._ We're hiding from that boy over there, see? The one with the orange hair? Yeah, that one." I had no idea why I was going through such drastic measures to get past some boy, but I just felt insecure with him around, spraying that poison wherever he goes. As we continued crawling, I heard the familiar whining of a certain sailor Hetamon, so I was sure that a Sealand had jumped him.

"When we're done, can we have pasta? I'm so hungry, and I need to take a nap. Maybe we can have a nice long siesta, or I can have the siesta and you can buy the pasta, ve. Si, I like that idea. What about you, Corey?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," I said, not really listening to the brunette. My eyes were focused on the boy who was almost behind us. Just a little bit more, and then we were long gone. After we finally passed him I broke out into a run, not looking behind me. Feli was not really keeping up with me, being the lazy ass he is. I couldn't return him back to his Hetaball if he'd just pop out again. However, I began to slow down as I realized that if I was too ahead of my Hetamon, he had the chance to be attacked by a Sealand or worse. And by worse, I mean _that boy_.

I froze and slowly looked back.

Feli was not behind me.

Taking in a shaky breath, I began to run back. I'm such a coward. I can't even face some boy I don't even know. And now, because of my selfish actions, my first Hetamon would become mince meat for a Sealand. I should've known how useless and helpless Feliciano was! Now here I am, running towards the place I was hiding from.

"FELICIANO!" I called, looking around with worried eyes. He's so high maintenance. . . Can I protect him? Can he protect me? What a trainer I am, leaving him. So stupid, Corey, so stupid. I can't just snap my fingers, hoping that Feli would immediately come to me. I raced through the tall grass, taking sharp turns and zigzagging through the trees. This is the WILDERNESS, where there are LIONS, TIGERS, and BEARS. Oh, my!

Shut up, Corey, you're overreacting. I took in a breath while I began to look around. Where was I going? Everything looked the same. It was just tall grass. Tall grass, trees, and the sky. There was nothing else.

I should've acted strong. I should've continued to search for Feli, with my head held high, as if I wasn't scared at all. I should've done many things, things that a great trainer would do. But how could I? I'm a noob. A noob with an Italy as her partner. . . A black hole of guilt was inside me, eating my insides out as I fell to my knees, my fingers grabbing my hair. Taking in short and shaky breaths, I crawled my way to a tree and leaned against it, feeling the harsh texture of the bark through my clothes. "I'm sorry," I whispered, playing with my fingers like I usually do. "I'm so sorry."

Behind me, I heard the soft snore. With hazed eyes, I turned so I could see who was behind me. I found a sleeping Italy, his face looking very blissful as he slept. Had I been anyone else, I would have hugged him tightly, tears flowing down my face. But I'm Corey Adams, and the first thing I felt was anger.

"Idiot!" I seethed, watching him as he continued to sleep. "I was worried sick that you were being attacked by a freaking Sealand, and you were SLEEPING THIS WHOLE TIME?!" My hands balled into fists. I raised my hand to bitch-slap him, but I stopped myself. I took in a deep breath, knowing I would regret it if I actually slapped him. I know he couldn't hear me, but I still found myself talking to him. Sliding next him, I looked through my bag, remembering that he said he was hungry.

"You know, you're a real idiot," I said softly, taking out a granola bar. Feliciano stirred, shifting in his sleep, having that same idiot smile. I had packed efficiently, so I'm sure he'd be happy with a granola bar before we could actually eat something. "Like a stupid, annoying, little brother." I shook my head.

"I'm hungry, ve," the man mumbled, and I handed him the granola.

. . .

"This tastes like crap!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you, all! Also, Luna de Moone is not fem!Prussia, thank the Lord. She's just a side character. Or is she? XD**

**Warnings: OC, mild cursing, mild yaoi later on, slight OC X OC later on, some crack pairings, some popular pairings (GerIta, FrUK, USUK, etc.) , fourth wall breaking, and whatever may come next.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Pokémon or even the cover picture.**

"_I'm hungry, ve," the man mumbled, and I handed him the granola._

_. . ._

"_This tastes like crap!"_

"Oh, Corey-chan~!"

"W-what?" I groggily mumbled, looking around me. Colors and shapes swirled as I tried to concentrate on the thing in front of me, the afternoon sun in my eyes. My back ached from sleeping on the tree, and my hair, as short as it was, was knotted and tangled. I brushed my cold fingers to see if Feliciano was there, and, sure enough, I felt the warm skin of my Hetamon. Blinking, I began to make out the long, blond hair that belonged to no one other than Angel D'ville.

"Sleepyhead, wake up!" she chimed cutely, and I looked at her, confused.

"How did you get here?" I asked, and she just giggled. She sat down by me, staring at me with her big brown eyes. Despite my shock, some paranoid part of me sort of already knew why she was here. All my life, Angel has been the only one who had been able to acknowledge my gender (Pangaea knows how she does it, though). I may have told someone a million times that I was a girl, but they would forget it all the time. Angel has been my friend, despite her weird personality switches.

"I followed you! I wanted to ask you if you could be my travelling partner," she said, grinning. I nodded before returning her smile, and I shifted to get a more comfortable position, which is probably impossible when you're leaning on a tree.

"I want to become Champion, though," I said, looking at her. "Aren't you my rival?"

"Pfft, no way!" Angel chirped. "I don't wanna be a _Champion._ I'm a Sketcher! I draw Hetamon for, you know, my career! Here, I'll show you, Corey-chan. . ." The girl rummaged through her backpack, until she came up with a thin book which resembled a magazine.

"'Forever, by Devi L. Angell . . . A YAOI STORY FEATURING SOME OF THE HOTTEST HETAMON ALIVE'?! Angel! What the hell are you doing with these books?!" I said, my cheeks flushing a dark red. Angel laughed, taking the book with her hands. She placed the story back into her backpack, smirking at me.

"You know, this is, like, the most popular book for girls right now," she said, pointing at her bag. "Not bad for an amateur, huh? And to continue my career, I need to meet every Hetamon to create the best pairing ever~!" She stood up now, her eyes twinkling with a mixture of mischief and determination. She swooned, clasping her hands together. "I already drew a real cute USUK pairing! And a HAWT PruCan scene! So far, everything's been a big hit." She looked at me with a devilish smirk. "You look like a boy so much, I can probably pair _you_ with a Hetamon. . . Ah, the forbidden love between trainer and Hetamon!"

I smacked the top off her head while giving her a straight face. As said before, Angel was . . . a special case. Sometimes she could be a violent bitch who threatens to break down your door, or she can be the sweetest little angel (Har, har, funny funny) who has the innocent body of a ten-year-old. And then there was _this_ side of her. Rabid fangirl time. The side where she somehow suddenly understands the meaning of "love" and "yaoi" and can draw like a freaking god is probably the most scary between the three, unless she's hiding _another _personality from me.

"And USUK and PruCan is _what exactly?_" I asked, poking her in the stomach. She giggled, and took out her hetadex, which was pink and sparkly with pink rhinestones. Typical Angel.

She turned it on, pressed a couple of buttons, and then showed me the screen. A young man with bright blue eyes and dark blonde hair smirked as he stood, flashing a thumbs up. He wore a brown bombers jacket over a military uniform, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. On the top of the screen, there were big, bold letters that read, "America: Male Form." Angel, noticing I was done processing what I saw, pressed a couple of more buttons. Now, the screen showed a somewhat shorter blonde man with EXTREMELY thick eyebrows (I literally touched the screen, thinking the eyebrows were a smudge or something) and bright green eyes. He wore a green military uniform and a slightly uptight expression on his face as he held a cup of what seemed like tea. Words were across the screen, reading, "England: Male Form."

"Wait, how come you have a hetadex that has all of the information on it?" I asked while gaping. She shrugged before giving me an innocent look.

"Well, Professor-san asked me if I could do this request for him. Something like finding each and every Hetamon, but I declined it. After all, I'm only interested in the _male_ Hetamon," she laughed that last sentence, flipping her hair. "Anyway, he gave me this one, with all of the info already on it. I think he muttered something about 'the ones without data are so much cheaper' or something. But don't you know that you must get a hetadex before you start your journey, Corey-chan?" I groaned, a fiery wave of anger crashing forth. That bastard was trying to save a few pennies by ripping me off. Ripping _me _off. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?

"Corey-chan, you're so stupid," laughed Angel, lightly punching me on the shoulder. I was still pretty pissed that he didn't give me the whole deal here. Cheap ass.

Lesson of the day: Never trust a Hetamon Professor, kids. They don't get a lot of money in the first place, and are always trying to rip you off by telling you something so that you feel important. Then they send you and your naïve little brain to do some lame-ass job because they're too damn lazy to do themselves. Just because they're forced to give you a Hetamon doesn't mean they're your friend.

After returning Feli to his Hetaball, Angel and I decided to get up; reaching the next town before it gets dark would be really great, especially because I don't feel like being attacked by a rabid Sealand at night. Ugh . . . Some of you may not see how a little boy the size of Angel could be frightening, but what would _you_ do when you wake up to find a freaking boy trying to force you to catch him? . . . Okay, it may not sound as bad as you think but. . . Wait! I'm coming up with a good reason! No, don't walk away! I'm thinking! I'm thinking!

. . . Okay, maybe a Sealand popping up at night _isn't _the worst-case scenario.

We talked a little as we walked through the tall grass, catching up on old times. I asked her what Hetamon she had since she had already seen Feliciano. She said that she got a Latvia as her starter ("I was so happy it was a male, because the yaoi fangirls are totally head-over-heels for the shota-type boys~") and she caught a Sealand. ("Corey-chan, SeaLat is so kawaii~!") From what I can tell, my little friend was totally basing her whole team with "ukes" and "semes," whatever the hell that meant. I attempted to make her explain it in more detail, but she just patted my shoulder, saying that I'd understand it when I was older. I felt sort of upset that we were the same age and she knew about this stuff, and that I was usually the more mature one between us. Well, that's what I thought.

By the time it was almost evening, we had managed to get to a sleepy old town. Many people were bicycling, enjoying the autumn breeze at its finest. Traffic was low, and we walked around, looking through the glass windows of shops and restaurants. We decided to take a room at the cheapest hotel possible, most likely because I was low on money. And when I say cheapest, I mean cheapest. The boring beige paint was peeling off the walls while spiders made a nice little home on the top corners of the lobby. The floor, which was stained with coffee, wine, and . . . something yellow, smelled horrible, and the air was old and smoky. Angel wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Can't we go anywhere nicer, Corey-chan?" she whined, tugging the sleeve of my hoodie like a child. I sighed and checked my wallet. There wasn't a lot in there to begin with, and I doubted I could afford anything more than this hotel.

"Sorry, Angel," I said sadly, placing my wallet back into my bag. "I just don't have the bucks."

"But I do!" she whined, waving a wad of cash in my face. She pinched her nose, trying not to smell the cigarette smoke and the dust. "I have a lot!"

So she was rich, too. Damn. Why does she have to be so . . . so . . . ? What's the word I'm looking for . . . Unreal? I think that's it. I mean, she's a load of surprises, and yet she still remains that title of the "sweet, adorable little girl" while she draws yaoi. And threatens to break down doors, of course. Can't forget those doors. However, in spite of this, I still caved in, and she dragged me to a fancy-schmancy place with a pool and everything. We had a nice, white room; there was no smoky smell, and there were two neat beds that were full of pillows and sheets. I'm not saying that I'm ungrateful to Angel, but I think she should be more adaptive to our surroundings. We won't have a nice hotel like this in the outdoors.

"Oh, a bed!" I sighed, falling on its soft mattress. "How I missed you so!" Now, although a day hasn't even passed yet, let me tell you one thing: I, under any circumstance, am not a nature person. In fact, I would happily stay in a house all day, curled up with a book or a computer (if I'm at Angel's rich mansion, of course) and sit inside a nice, air-conditioned room. Nature, bugs, dirt, rabid Hetamon. . . Yeah, that's not my cup of Joe. And yet, I was just saying how Angel should be more adaptive. I'm such a hypocrite.

I rolled around on it while Angel flopped on an identical one, a pencil in her hand as she began drawing something. And, for the sake of the _children_, I will not say what. All I can say is that it was "some smexy FrUK action," as Angel described. While I enjoyed the comfort of the room, Feliciano managed to pop out of his Hetaball again.

"Does Latvia or Sealand ever do that?" I asked with slight irritation in my voice as the Italy began watching TV, sprawled right in front of the screen. Angel didn't look up; she just shook her head, sneaking glances at Italy and her hetadex as she scribbled a rough drawing on the paper.

"Well, some Hetamon don't like being in their Hetaballs too long," she said in that high-pitched voice of hers. "After all, it's like keeping a Bella Swan too long without a Jacob Black or Edward Cullen to give her attention. If she stays in too long, she'd probably wallow in self-pity or just commit suicide."

"That's . . . unsettling," I managed to say, and she just giggled. I looked back to Feliciano, who had turned off the TV, his hands on his growling stomach.

"So . . . hungry. . . Need pasta," he whined. I, for one, didn't really give a crap. Possibly because I was ticked that he didn't eat my granola bar. Do you know how _long_ it took me to pack everything?! So, being the wonderful person I am, I opened the hotel door, persuading my Hetamon to go out the door and do whatever the hell he wants. The last thing I need is having a dead Hetamon like Angel said, and it's not like an _Italy_ can destroy a whole hotel, right?

I mean, what can an Italy possibly—

Corey, don't jinx yourself. The last time you said something like that, it was utter chaos. Sure, you managed to get out of it, but still. Corey, shut up. Shut up shut up shut up. Now, this is your conscience speaking to you! Breathe in! Breathe out! Breathe in! Breathe—

_CRASH!_

So much for me being Dr. Phil.

The crash was quite loud, so loud in fact that it startled Angel. It made her pencil streak across the page, ruining her picture. The girl was strangely calm as she didn't bother to fix the mistake; instead she clenched my wrist dragging me out of the door with a cracked smile on her face.

Right around here is when someone would say, "GAWD, ANGEL IS, LIKE, SUCH A SUE! I'M NEVAH GONNA READ THIS LAME-ASS STORY EVAH AGAIN! HER NAME IS SO CLICHÉ AND SHE'S PRACTICALLY RUSSIA WHO'S MORE PERFECT! MNEH~!" But let me get this straight, Angel might be a Sue. But then again, she might not. Sure, she has this "totally sparkly-kawaii-desu-princess-angel-chan" body and three different personalities, but maybe you should take time before calling her a Sue. Like now, for instance.

Angel continued her rampage by storming down the stairs, watching the staff worker who dropped a plate of pasta on the ground. I followed, half conscious and half dazed because my Dr. Phil conscience was still giving me a lecture. The little blondie walked up to the staff worker, her eyes blazing with childish anger. She raised a bony hand to punch.

"MEANIE! MEANIE! MEANIE!" she cried, punching him weakly in the stomach. The staff worker, who was obviously taller than the girl, chuckled slightly at her weak throws. Angel may have been able to break down my door at home, but that's only because it was weak and flimsy. The girl was nothing more than a pampered puny poodle, and couldn't hurt a fly, even if she really wanted to. Regaining consciousness, I walked up to the two.

"Sorry, mister," I said in a deep voice, pretending to be a man, which was not that hard. "My little sis just woke up from her nap because of that crash we heard, and she's really cranky. I'm so sorry if we troubled you." This was our usual skit when Angel or I would get in trouble. I was the big brother while she was my little sister. It was very convincing.

"Big brother Corey! I'm not tired!" she pouted, facing me. Now that she wasn't facing the staff worker anymore, she could sneak in a few grins or smirks. I shook my head, but I couldn't manage a straight face. "I'm hungry!"

I nodded, giving a glance at the worker. "Do you have a table? Or, better yet, do you have someone by the name of Feliciano Vargas already at a table? He's one of my Hetamon, and I'd be much more at ease if I could have him under my watch."

"Why, yes," he said and then pointed to the clump of pasta that had fell. "He ordered a lot of pasta. . . An Italy, by my guess? Anyway, I'll show you to the table where he's at." He beckoned us to follow him, and we obeyed, turning through hallways and navigating through corridors. We stopped until we came to a room with dim lighting, candles illuminating each and every table. My eyes caught glance of Feli, who sat all alone as he whistled a happy tune (Heheh, song joke). He held a glass of wine as he did so, his grin slightly wider and happier than usual.

I slid next to him uneasily; you all know how I feel about drunks. Angel whispered, "An Italy is usually drunk in the first place, so he's just going to act as usual, Corey-chan. It's not like he's an England. Then we'd have something to worry about~!" I relaxed at that statement, watching as a tray of pasta was set on the table, along with two extra plates for Angel and me.

"Ah, this is great! I love the pasta, it's so good~! Veeeeeeee~! I could stay here forever and ever eating pasta~! Ve, this wine is so tasty, too! Did you have some? Ahh~" Feli chimed, falling back into his chair.

I ignored his rambling and continued eating the pasta. It _was_ really good, but I couldn't help but wonder how Feli's pasta might taste like. After all, he only talks about pasta, so he must know how to make it, right? Or maybe I'm just wrong, and he's nothing but a lazy butt like the hetadex said.

Next to me, Angel had managed to get the waiter to get two chairs for her Hetamon, but just one plate. Sure enough, the Sealand and Latvia had to share their plate of pasta.

"Kufufufu~" she laughed when Latvia and Sealand had the same piece of spaghetti in their mouth. Latvia blushed before biting it off so Sealand could have the rest, and the sailor enthusiastically (and densely, I might add because he didn't seem to understand why Latvia blushed) ate the rest of the strand. I shook my head at Angel.

"HEY! HOW DARE THE AUTHOR WRITE ME INTO THE STORY SO LATE!" cried a familiar voice. I looked around, only to see a recognizable brunette standing on one of the tables. The waiters took no notice of her, and they didn't even bat an eye when she super-jumped all the way to our table. She stuck her index finger right in my face, her eyes fiery and full of anger.

"I deserve to be the center of this story!" she cried. "Therefore, I challenge you! To a HETAMON BATTLE!"

"Okay, you don't need to be so dramatic about it."

"Of course I do! I'm the one who'll save everyone," she said, her deep, mesmerizing, passionate pools of pure amethyst staring into my eyes (Wait, why did I make it so dramatic?). "And I'll have a passionate love triangle between my Hetamon who I love so dearly."

"Okay. . . TMI, Luna. TMI."

"You don't understand, it's my destiny! I'm cursed with these good looks! And I have this horrible past where everyone raped me. . . Even to the point where I raped myself," she said, her deep, mesmerizing, passionate pools of pure amethyst— Okay, we get the point. And why is she suddenly having all of the descriptions?!

"Okay, I don't think it's really possible to rape yourself. . ."

"But no matter how horrible and angst-y my past is, I will triumph by beating you, my rival, and becoming top coordinator!" she cried.

"Bitch, please. I wanna become a Hetamon Champion."

Luna ignored me. "Battle me!" she cried, showing me her Hetaball (Okay, I have to admit that that sounds wrong). "And whoever wins becomes the protagonist of this story!"

**BUM BUM BUUUUUMMMM! Will Luna become the protagonist of this story? Will Italy be able to fight against her badass pokémon? Will Corey ever get over her fear of drunk people? Will I ever stop asking questions? Find out next time, on TOTAL. DRAMA. ISLAND!**

**Wait, wrong show.**

**Find out next time, on HOW TO TRAIN YOUR HETAMON!**

***Updates will be at least once a week on a Sunday. Thank you for your patience!**

**REVIEW IF YOU LIKED IT.**

**REVIEW IF YOU HATED IT.**

**REVIEW IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE.**


	4. AUTHOR'S FAREWELL!

Author's Note:

Dear readers,

First of all, I'm sorry for being a total bitch. o3o I decided that all of this writing is in the way for me, and because of this, I am giving this story to _Twin Hearts of Fire and Ice_, some friends of mine in real life who'll definitely take care of my unfinished piece. They will continue from where I started off, and I'm sure they'll get every character's personality perfect. I'll tell them the main storyline and how I wanted everything to go, and even make them pledge a legit promise to follow what I wanted. Be nice, everyone! They're way more reliable then I will ever be.

From Yours Truly,

Illusion Fox~


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